Four's A Party
by IvyJaneLily
Summary: Sequel to Three's A Crowd, which was set post S3 CS. Thomas and Jimmy have been living and working in Paris for a year, and Tom and Edith are coming to visit them. This is not a slash fic, but a tale of friendship. Cheesiness ensues!


**A/N: Ok, here it is, my sequel to Three's A Crowd. You don't have to have read Three's A Crowd to read this - all you need to know is that Thomas and Jimmy were sacked from Downton and are now working for Lady Anstruther, Jimmy's old employer, in Paris. But you can read it if you like!**

**No smut, which is probably going to be a disappointment, but the rest of the fic is so cheesy that smut would've felt a bit out of place, IMO. **

**This is pure cheese. I'm surprised that they don't end up drinking lashings of ginger beer at the end. **

**I hope it doesn't disappoint!**

* * *

_Paris, July 1923_

"Remind me Thomas - why are Mr Branson and Lady Edith coming to Paris the day after tomorrow?" Jimmy asked, screwing his face up due to the total lack of memory he had regarding their impending visit. He knew Thomas had told him several times; he had even shown him the letter from Branson, or should he say _Tom_. It had been difficult to think of him as Tom, as he had always been Mr Branson to him.

Thomas sighed. He had lost count of how many times he had told Jimmy the particulars of the visit. He snapped shut his book and rolled over onto his front so that he was now laying side-by-side with Jimmy under the tree in the park.

"They are currently watching the French Grand Prix, which is taking place in Tours. Lady Edith is covering the event for The Sketch, and Tom is accompanying her both so that her ladyship doesn't have to travel alone, and because he now has a passion for fast cars."

Jimmy nodded, thoughtfully. "Ah yes, I remember now. _The Grand Prix_." Jimmy always imitated the way that Thomas said it, with a slight pause beforehand and an emphasis on the word '_Grand_'.

Thomas looked at Jimmy and shoved him playfully. It was his days off with Jimmy that he lived for. The two of them had been lazing around all morning in the park not ten minutes walk from their new accommodation – an apartment that they had managed to scrape together enough of their earnings to buy. It was a modest affair – bedroom and living room rolled into one, with a small kitchenette and a bathroom – but it was a place of their own, where they could truly be themselves. As it was only a street away from Lady Anstruther's, she hadn't minded when they had told her, although she was sad that they would no longer be living in the house. Both of them still worked there, of course, though what Jimmy's job title was, neither Thomas nor Lady Anstruther could quite pinpoint.

Jimmy liked to think of himself as 'The Entertainer'. This meant he would not only serve dinner to Lady Anstruther and her guests, but he would also play the enormous grand piano she owned, and occasionally he would tell jokes and flirt with the ladies.

Thomas didn't mind. He knew that the flirting was harmless and that the jokes were always on the right side of decent. He was content with his role as Lady Anstruther's butler, which did mean getting up early to be ready to direct the other staff as to their duties, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Service was his life, and although the service industry to large houses was slowly declining, he did not want to work anywhere else. He was proud of his achievements, and he was outstanding at his job.

It had been a year since they had turned up on Lady Anstruther's doorstep, and their lives had changed beyond recognition. Now, instead of a half day per week and a whole day per month, they were allowed one day off per week, and Lady Anstruther would always insist they get to take the day off together. Today was that day, and Thomas and Jimmy had made the most of their lie-in together. Thomas smiled as he remembered the particularly creative way Jimmy had chosen to wake him that morning. He looked over at his lover, who still had a look of confusion on his face.

"So, tell me again – why are Branson and Lady Edith coming to Paris in two days time?"

Thomas looked mildly irritated. "What? Jimmy, please tell me you haven't forgotten what I said already. How the heck do you remember all those tunes on the piano when you can't remember what I said not ten seconds ago?!"

"No! I remember what you said about the _Grand Prix_. But isn't that miles away from here? Why are they coming to _Paris_ exactly?"

Thomas loved Jimmy with all his heart, but sometimes his lack of logic was astounding. He retrieved his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one before answering.

"Because Tours, where the Grand Prix is being held, is about a _hundred_ miles away, and they wish to break up the journey a little by stopping off for the night; Lady Anstruther has very kindly offered them a couple of rooms to stay in. Oh, and maybe also because they want to see us!"

"You mean, they want to see _you_," Jimmy corrected. "It's not like two poshies would want to come and see me, is it?"

Thomas blew out smoke and laughed out loud at the thought of Tom Branson being described in this way. "Better not let Tom hear you call him a 'poshie' – he's nothing more than a chauffeur who got lucky by marrying Lady Sybil. He really knew what he was doing with that one." Thomas' tone sounded bitter, but he considered Tom a good friend now. He knew that Tom had been through enough hardship by losing his wife, and he also was confident in thinking that Tom would have rather been penniless with Sybil by his side, than a widow with a hand in a large Estate such as Downton. He knew, from Tom's letters to him, that Tom had been left feeling rather alone – trapped in a life that he neither wanted nor asked for, and he could sympathise with his sentiments entirely.

Jimmy watched Thomas as he thought. "Do you ever wish that you had married into the upper class, rather than being stuck here with a poor little footman?"

Jimmy's question brought Thomas out of his thoughts, and he shook his head vigorously. "Are you being serious?! Of course I don't! Being here, with you, is all I've ever hoped for." He swept his arm around in front of the two of them to indicate their surroundings. "And look at all this! _This_, is better than being stuck in a house in England, where it does nothing but rain all the time."

Jimmy smiled and put his hand on Thomas', looking around to make sure no-one was watching. Not that it mattered so much, here, but he didn't want to attract any unwanted attention. Thomas was right, of course. It was paradise being in Paris, where the son shone through the trees and the locals were relaxed and friendly. He nodded to show he was in complete comprehension of the situation.

"Good! I'd hate to think of you running off back to Downton with Lady Edith when she turns up." Jimmy was joking, but Thomas could tell that he still harboured that fear that Thomas would leave him one day to marry and start a family. Thomas always laughed him off and said that if anyone was going to leave, it would be Jimmy – he was a much bigger hit with the ladies, after all. Then the two of them would argue playfully about who was most likely to get married, and to whom – and Jimmy always had this notion that the Dowager countess at Downton would marry Thomas, if he asked. To which Thomas would pin Jimmy down on the bed and tickle him until he begged for mercy, which Jimmy pretended to hate, but secretly loved. He loved everything about his new life with Thomas.

"Ha!" Scoffed Thomas. "Somehow I don't think I'm Edith's type, although we did dance together every year at the Servants' Ball. I always felt a little sorry for her, as she never did seem to garner much attention from her parents, or any suitors, for that matter."

"But isn't she involved with her boss at the newspaper in London? Mr Gregson?" Asked Jimmy.

"Ah so you _do _listen to me sometimes!" Said Thomas, triumphantly. "Yes, she is apparently. And he's married. Can you imagine the scandal back at Downton if Lord and Lady G knew about that? Tom has sworn me to secrecy, but who am I likely to tell anyway? The only person I was close to at Downton was O'Brien, and by the sounds of it she's buggered off to India to serve Lady Flintshire. I bet that didn't go down too well!"

"No, I bet it didn't!" Said Jimmy, laughing. "So, let me get this right: Lady Edith is secretly seeing a married man, Branson is secretly seeing his new secretary, Miss Dawson, and Lady Rose is seeing half of Yorkshire...is anyone at Downton actually enjoying a legitimate relationship?"

"Apart from Lord and Lady G – apparently not. Lady Mary still hasn't met anyone yet, and God knows what's going on with the downstairs lot. Apparently there is a new footman who the girls are once again fawning over, much to Alfred's dismay."

"Poor Alfred," said Jimmy, but he looked at Thomas and the two of them burst into uncontrollable laughter.

* * *

Two days later, whilst waiting for the dinner in the oven to cook, Thomas dashed about the apartment, trying to get it looking as tidy as he could. Although Edith and Tom were to stay at Lady Anstruther's, they would be paying a visit to them before dinner, and of course the four of them would be meeting up again afterwards.

Lady Anstruther had insisted that they take the afternoon off, as she would not allow them to serve dinner her guests, stating firmly: "You might work for me, boys, but I will not have you serving your own friends. You know I would allow you to eat with us, but you have actively refused my invitation."

Thomas had been horrified at the thought of dining at the table he usually served, and had decided to have dinner at the apartment with Jimmy instead. He wasn't a bad cook – working alongside Mrs Patmore for over ten years had given him lots of ideas. Cooking for himself, and for Jimmy, was an experience he had been surprised to find he actually enjoyed. Before leaving Downton, the only cooking he had done had been to rustle up something during his time on the front line, and the ingredients were very limited to say the least.

Tonight, he was cooking salmon en croute, using a recipe he had extracted from Madame Contant, the cook at Lady Anstruther's. Serving it to Jimmy with a flourish, Thomas realised it was decidedly more en croute than salmon, but it would have to do. Jimmy sat at their little makeshift table in the kitchenette, nursing a small glass of beer.

"What's this? More fancy French food?" Asked Jimmy, poking it tentatively with his fork.

"Oh, for God's sake, it's salmon and pastry, Jimmy! With a little cream cheese and spinach. It's hardly snails and frog's legs." Thomas did not want to wait for Jimmy to start, and was tucking in hungrily.

Jimmy's eyes widened. "You wouldn't...actually serve me frog's legs, would you?!"

"You should be so lucky – they are considered a delicacy round these parts! I wouldn't waste them on you when a cheese sandwich would suffice."

Jimmy narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the lump of pastry on his plate. He cut open the end and peered inside. To his relief, the contents _did _look suspiciously like salmon. He took a bite and before Thomas could say another word, Jimmy had cleared his plate.

"Blimey!" Exclaimed Thomas, blinking at Jimmy's now empty plate. "That went down well!"

Jimmy grinned mischievously. "Slipped down a treat, in fact. Just like you did this morning..." He gave Thomas his best 'come to bed' eyes, and licked his knife seductively.

Thomas, pretending not to notice, rolled his eyes. "You should never lick your knife Jimmy. It's so uncouth." But Thomas couldn't pretend that he didn't feel a slight twinge below his waist, and looked at the clock. "Hmm. We have approximately half an hour before Tom and Lady Edith are to descend upon us."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Asked Jimmy, standing up from the table, almost knocking over his empty glass.

Thomas didn't answer, but grabbed Jimmy's hand and made his way over to the living room-cum-bedroom. He fell backwards onto the bed, pulling Jimmy down on top of him, and the pair embraced lovingly. Hands were wandering everywhere and it wasn't long before they were stripped to their underwear and caressing each others' bodies.

Thomas placed little kisses on Jimmy's smooth chest, and positioned himself between Jimmy's legs. Jimmy lay on his back, his eyes half-closed, enjoying the moment. Thomas spoke softly. "I can't believe I'm with you," he said, nuzzling into Jimmy's body. "You're so wonderful!"

"Iknow," replied Jimmy, lazily, "but so are you, so we're perfectly matched."

Suddenly there was a sharp knock at the door.

Thomas groaned. "They're bloody early! Typical!" He grabbed his clothes, shouted "Just a minute!" and attempted to put them on. "Why is it that when you are in a hurry to put trousers on, your legs just won't do what they're told?" He asked, mainly of himself.

Jimmy, who was also pulling his clothes back on, replied, "It's not me legs I'm worried about. I've got a slight problem trying to fit something else into my trousers at this moment in time!" He laughed nervously, and hoped that his arousal would somehow diffuse before Tom and Lady Edith saw him. "Wait! Lady Edith _does_ know about us, doesn't she? Or do we have to pretend that we're just flatmates?"

Thomas managed to sort his composure and headed over to the door. "Yes, she does!" He said in a stage whisper. "Tom told her last year, when we left. Don't worry!" Opening the door, he smiled warmly at the sight of Lady Edith and Tom Branson, who could tell that they had interrupted something.

"Should we come back later, or...?" Asked Tom, an amused expression on his face.

"No, not at all! We were just, er, eating dinner!" Thomas gestured over to the little table, trying to detract his guests' attention away from where Jimmy was doing up his trousers.

"Anyway, it's good to see you Tom!" Said Thomas, shaking the Irishman's hand. "And Lady Edith, looking so delightful tonight!"

Edith looked much the same as Thomas had remembered her – stylish yet understated, but she had a slight more determination about her since Thomas had seen her last.

"Why, thank you, Mr Barrow! But I must insist you drop the 'Lady', for tonight at least. I don't want to stand out as different, or I'll only feel uncomfortable."

"Well, only if you're sure?" Asked Thomas, hesitant to address Edith in such an informal manner.

"Yes, I am sure. Tom here still occasionally slips up and calls me 'Lady Edith', and it makes me feel so pretentious. I would rather it was dropped altogether, now that I am a working woman!"

"All right, Edith it is! But in that case you must call me Thomas, as Mr Barrow makes me feel like I'm at work. And it is my night off, after all!"

"Of course, Thomas!" Said Edith, smiling warmly at him. She looked around at where Jimmy was still on the bed, albeit now sitting up and pretending to read. "James, isn't it? How very nice to see you after all these months!"

Thomas motioned vigorously for Jimmy to get up and shake hands with their guests, shooting him daggers from the door.

"Sorry, m'lady! What a pleasure it is to see you too!" Jimmy raced to the door, reading Thomas' glare as a demand, not a request. He held out his hand to Edith and dazzled her with his smile.

"Oh, please! Not you too! Call me Edith. If one of you dares to call me 'Lady' one more time I swear I shall leave!" She said, but it was all in jest.

"Sorry, m..I mean Edith. And please call me Jimmy. I was only ever 'James' for my short time at Downton, and only on Carson's insistence."

"Well, you _do _look more like a 'Jimmy', than a 'James', if that isn't improper of me to say so?" Asked Edith.

"Don't worry, I don't think anything that you do or say will seem 'improper' around here, will it Jimmy?" Asked Thomas of his lover. "It's a little bit different in Paris!"

To this, Tom laughed. "You're telling me! I just walked past a woman that I _swear _was a man in a dress. And I thought you were joking when you wrote about all that in your letters!"

"Would I joke about such a thing?!" Said Thomas.

"Actually, you probably would! But I've seen it for my own eyes now!" Said Tom. "So where're you taking us tonight then? Anywhere in particular in mind?"

"Well..." said Thomas, looking at Jimmy, "...there's this one place that we go to when we get a night off, called the Boeuf Sur Le Toit, which isn't far from here. It's a lively place, with music, dancing and drinking. Sometimes they let Jimmy here play the piano, and we get free drinks out of it!"

"Sounds perfect!" Exclaimed Edith. "I can't wait to see it! And I must tell you all about the Grand Prix, it was so exciting!"

"Great!" Said Thomas, and aware that they were all hovering by the door, continued, "Come in, anyway! We just need a few minutes to get changed and then we'll be ready to go. I would offer you both a drink, but we only have beer..."

"Beer is fine with me!" Said Edith, "I must admit I've always preferred it to wine. But don't tell Granny," she said to Tom, "she'd think I was terribly uncouth!"

Thomas nodded graciously and went to the cupboard to get the beers. Handing one to Edith, and one to Tom, he chinked his against theirs and took a swig. "Cheers! Here's to the four of us!"

"Cheers!" chorused the others.

Thomas headed into the bathroom to get changed and sort out his hair, leaving Jimmy with Tom and Edith. Jimmy was, for the first time in months, lost for words. Luckily Tom could sense the awkwardness and piped up.

"Lady Anstruther's grand, isn't she? Some of the tales she was telling us – no wonder you decided to come to Paris. It must be a bit of a culture shock compared to Downton, eh?"

Jimmy smiled shyly at Tom. He knew that if it hadn't been for Tom's money, he and Thomas would never have come to France in the first place, and they wouldn't all be sitting there enjoying a beer together. He didn't want to think about what would have happened had Tom not been so generous after that fateful night last year.

"Aye, she is. The amount of time off she gives us, and she never expects us to work at the crack of dawn. Plus she's got a sense of humour on her, too!" Jimmy replied, relaxing a little.

"She's an amazing artist too – she showed me some of her paintings! Incredible!" Said Edith, finishing her beer. "Oh, that was lovely! I didn't realise how thirsty I was!"

"Do you want another one?" Asked Jimmy, getting up.

"Oh no, I'd better not, otherwise I'll not be held responsible for my actions!"

Thomas appeared, smartly dressed and hair slicked back with pomade. "Oh, I don't know, I think it might be quite interesting to see you a little bit tipsy!" He said, as Jimmy raced into the bathroom to get himself ready.

"I don't think Michael would approve...luckily he trusts Tom not to lead me astray!"

"Well, more fool Michael! He obviously doesn't know Tom very well! Did you tell him about the time Tom tried to throw slop over someone at the dinner table?" Laughed Thomas, picking up the empty bottles and putting them on the side.

"Hey! That was _years_ ago, and don't say that you've never done anything irresponsible Mr Barrow!" Exclaimed Tom, pretending to look hurt.

"Oh, don't worry, I've done my fair share of irresponsible things! One of them is currently getting ready in the bathroom!" He winked at Edith, causing her to blush again. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you!"

Edith recovered quickly. "Oh, it's quite all right. I suppose if I am to spend the evening with three men, I should get used to the tone of conversation dropping a little. My, this might be _quite _an education!" She lowered her voice, and spoke to Thomas. "I think Jimmy is a little bit nervous to talk freely around me...let him know that I'm all right with, well, the way you two live, won't you?"

"Of course...he does know that you know, but he is a little sensitive about it. He's much better at pretending to be a ladies man in front of others, but he probably doesn't see the point with you as you know the truth, which means he doesn't know how to behave! Ah, here he is now!"

"Should my ears be burning?" Asked Jimmy, looking at Thomas suspiciously.

"Not at all! Edith was just telling me about the Grand Prix, weren't you Edith?" Said Thomas, giving her a pointed look.

Jimmy wasn't fooled for a second, as Edith was sporting a lovely shade of crimson. "Right you are! So, who won it then?" He asked Thomas, knowing that it would catch him out.

"Er..." Thomas looked at Edith desperately. His mind had gone completely blank. Luckily Edith interjected.

"Actually, Henry Segrave did! He's the first British driver to do it!"

"Well," said Tom, interrupting, "you say he's British, but he _was _brought up in Ireland!"

"Oh, I knew you'd get that in there somewhere! He was educated at Eton, though, and that is most definitely in England!"

"Anyway!" Thomas interjected. "Now that we're all here, and ready, I say it's about time we headed off out."

"Well I won't argue with that!" Said Tom, and the four of them headed out the door.

Once on the streets of Paris, Jimmy loosened up a little. His favourite time was when the stars were starting to appear, and the lights from the busy nightclubs were illuminated against the night sky.

Walking past a little venue called La Petite Chaumiere, Thomas winked at Jimmy and called out to Edith and Tom, who were in front of them.

"Edith, Tom! We thought we'd stop by here for a drink, if that's all right with you?"

Turning round, Tom and Edith nodded and joined Thomas and Jimmy at the entrance to the building. It was a picturesque, small cottage-like-building with a rustic front and windows adorned with red cotton.

Thomas strode through the door, whilst Jimmy stifled an urge to laugh. There were a group of women standing at the bar, whilst a man played a lively tune on the piano. Edith looked over at the women and visibly jumped. The women were not women at all, but men dressed up to _look _like women. Tom's eyes widened and both of them stood stock still by the door. A man in a dress had started to dance, lifting his skirt up over his head as he did so, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Well, aren't you going to come in and have a drink?" Asked Thomas, beckoning them in.

"Er..." Stuttered Tom, not knowing what to say. "Well..."

Jimmy couldn't hold in his mirth any longer. He burst out laughing, setting Thomas off in the process. "Your faces!" He said, clutching his stomach and he bent over.

"Don't worry, we're not really stopping here! I just thought it would be amusing to see how you'd react to the first bar we visited when we got here. Needless to say, our reactions were very similar to yours!" Laughed Thomas, exiting the building with a smile on his face.

Tom and Edith were still carrying bemused expressions, but Jimmy was feeling a lot more confident. "That was so funny! As if we'd take you there for the evening, blimey!"

Retrieving his voice, Tom spoke first. "Well, I thought I'd seen it all. But now I _know _I have!"

"The place we're _actually _taking you to is a little classier than that," said Thomas as they continued down the street. "It's bohemian, yes, but it's a lot more to our taste. There's a mixed crowd that go, and apparently even Picasso has been spotted there, not that we've ever seen him ourselves."

"Oh, well I'm looking forward to it! I must admit I did have quite a shock when I saw that man in his skirt. I'm astounded at how different it is here! I dread to think what Mama would say!" Said Edith, recovering a little.

"Quite," agreed Thomas. He looked ahead at where Jimmy was now chatting animatedly to Tom about their first few days exploring the nightclubs of Paris, and smiled. "Talking of which – I don't suppose you have told Lord and Lady Grantham where you are tonight, have you?"

"Alas, we didn't think it a good idea to mention it. They just entrust that Tom is looking after me, and that we are staying in a nice hotel somewhere between Tours and Calais. I feel awful for being dishonest with them, but they wouldn't have let me come if they knew I'd be staying with their disgraced former-employees."

"Not to mention the reason why we are disgraced, and former. I expect Lord G wouldn't approve of you frolicking with our sort so openly – he would worry we'd be a bad influence on you!" Said Thomas, linking his arm with Edith's.

Edith laughed. "And isn't that funny? I'm having an affair with a married man and he'd probably be more worried about me spending time with two men who lived together. Not that he'd probably notice – they spend all their time consoling poor Mary. She still hasn't found a husband, and she's so stubborn that she probably never will. I don't blame her though – it must be awful to love someone so much, and then for that person to be cruelly snatched away from you. I couldn't bear it if Michael died!"

"And I couldn't be without Jimmy – he is my sole reason for living!"

They both looked at Tom, who was recalling the time they all participated in the tug of war – and felt a stab of sadness at his loss of Sybil, who he had adored with all his being.

"Has Tom told you about his secretary, Miss Dawson?" Asked Edith.

"Yes, he has. At first I must say I was a little shocked, after all, Gwen was friends with Sybil and it was Sybil who had helped her to get a job as a secretary in the first place! But, if you think about it, it makes sense really. Tom knows that Sybil would approve of Gwen, and that she would want him to be happy. Gwen's a nice girl, too." Thomas said on reflection, remembering the red-haired former housemaid.

"She is a nice girl, and she's great with Sybbie too. Of course, he hasn't told the family yet, and I don't blame him. But, how can they object? They objected to Sybil marrying Tom as they considered him below them, so how can they refuse to accept Gwen, who after all is no different to Tom in class?" Edith pondered.

"Oh, I am fed up with how everything is always divided into class," said Thomas, exasperated. "It's funny, it's not mentioned nearly so much over here. People are people, and yes, there will always be people with more money than others; with bigger houses and nicer cars, but no-one seems to mind who marries whom, or in our case, who lives with whom."

"I completely agree with you, of course! Maybe I'll try and persuade Michael to come and live out here – at least then, no-one would know if we were married or not!" Edith's face brightened at the prospect.

Thomas, not wanting to be responsible for Edith deserting her family, changed the subject. "So, you wrote an article about the Grand Prix for The Sketch? I bet it was a pleasure to write about an English victory for once?"

"Yes! It was great fun to watch, and even better to write about! I have drafted some notes already, but I'll write it properly when I get back to England. Plus I have another article to write, but I can't talk about that one. It's something of a _scandalous_ nature!"

"Oh go on, you can tell me, surely! I won't tell anyone – who could I tell over here?" Thomas was curious.

"No, I won't let you persuade me! If I told you, someone else might et wind of it and break the story first!"

Tom, overhearing the conversation, slowed his pace until the four of them were in line. "Oh, she's not telling you about her top secret story that no-one's allowed to know about, is she? For some reason she thinks that by telling me, I'm go off and sell it to another journalist or something! I've told her how ridiculous she's being!"

"It's _not _ridiculous! Thomas doesn't think it's ridiculous, do you Thomas?" She asked of him.

"Of course not!" Thomas replied, but when Edith wasn't looking he winked at Tom. Jimmy, spotting the wink, felt possessive all of a sudden and linked with Thomas' other arm. It was dark, and after seeing men in dresses he felt that an innocent gesture of arm-linking wasn't going to stand out. "Anyway – we're here!"

The four of them looked up at the entrance to the Boeuf Sur Le Toit. It was a small but impressive looking building, with a canopy over the entrance and little sparkling lights in the windows.

"And can you promise me that there'll be no men in dresses?" Asked Tom, warily.

Thomas shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't make any promises...but it's less likely here. Come on! First round's on me."

They followed him into the building, and Edith was relieved to see not one man in a dress in sight. The walls were covered in paintings and large mirrors, giving the impression that it was much larger on the inside. A pianist sat at a grand piano, playing a jazzy little number, and waiters flitted about the room delivering fancy-looking drinks to parties sat at tables.

Thomas made his way confidently to the bar, Jimmy close behind him. Edith and Tom hung back, taking in their surroundings in awe.

"It does remind me a little of that club I went to in London that one time, with Aunt Rosamund and dear Cousin Matthew," said Edith to Tom. "We went to find Cousin Rose, who had snuck off to see her married lover. Oh dear, I did judge her a little. And now look at me!" She shook her head.

"Oh, don't worry about that now. Would you care for a dance?" Asked Tom, holding out his hand.

"Maybe in a minute, after I've had a drink or two! Let's find a table first. I dread to think what sort of concoctions Thomas is bringing us back from the bar. It all looks very fancy!"

They found themselves a small table and sat down, taking off their coats and throwing them over the backs of the chairs.

Meanwhile, Jimmy and Thomas were at the bar, trying to decide what to order. Scanning the menu, Jimmy read out the cocktails that he fancied. "The Gin Rickey...hmmm, that's got gin in it..."

"You don't say?" Said Thomas, trying to catch the attention of the bartender.

Jimmy chose to ignore him. "...Martini? Ugh, that's got an olive in it! No thaaaankyoooou! Ooh, here's one for Tom – a Sidecar!"

"Oh, very funny, you mean cos he was a chauffeur? I don't think he'll thank you for that!" Tutted Thomas, lighting a cigarette.

"Oh! No, I meant cos they'd been to the _Grand Prix_! Don't forget, he's never really been a chauffeur to me. He's always been, _one of them_!" Said Jimmy, still scanning the list. "Aha! Here's one we can all have – the Hanky Panky!"

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Trust you! But all right...I'm pretty sure they all taste the same anyway." The bartender came over to where they were standing. "Je voudrais, ahem, 4 _Hanky Pankies,_ sil vous plait?"

Jimmy smiled gleefully at both getting his choice of drink, and at hearing Thomas asking for a hanky panky. He slipped his hand into Thomas' and squeezed it. "We can do that here, can't we?"

Thomas smiled at him and pulled him close. "We sure can. We can probably even do _this – _" he leaned down and planted a small kiss on Jimmy's cheek " – if we choose to do so..."

Jimmy looked round at where Tom and Edith were staring pointedly at the two of them, but they both looked away, pretending to find a painting on the wall suddenly _very _interesting. "Oops! Looks like we've been spotted!" Said Jimmy, but sneaked a quick kiss to Thomas' neck in return anyway.

The bartender had finished making the drinks and had placed them decoratively on a tray with a flourish. Thomas paid the bartender and picked up the tray of drinks, weaving through the building crowds back towards their table.

"What the Hell do you call _that_?!" Joked Tom in disbelief. "That is a bit of a girly looking drink. And it won't last five minutes. Don't they serve beer in this bar?"

"Oh, they do, but as you're in _gay Paris_...we thought we'd let you experience a cocktail or two. This, ladies and gentleman, is a _Hanky Panky_!" Thomas presented the cocktails with vigour, and passed them around.

"Oh, I say! A Hanky Panky!" Said Edith, taking a sip. "Well it's quite simply delicious. But I'm afraid it probably won't last long." She looked round as Tom downed his in one gulp. "Well, all right, it'll last longer than Tom's will, anyway!"

They laughed as Tom slammed his glass on the table with a bang. "Well, I must admit, that was actually quite nice. Do they sell them in pints?!"

Thomas raised an eyebrow as Tom went back to the bar to attempt to buy a pint. After lots of wild gesturing and actions which looked incredibly vulgar, Tom returned to the table, victorious with his pint of beer.

"Well, I think it's beer. As long as it looks and tastes like beer, I don't mind what it is!"

Edith took another sip. "The chap on the piano is good, isn't he?" she asked.

"He's bloody brilliant! His name's Jean. Sometimes he even lets me play, but of course he's much better than me!" Replied Jimmy.

"Nonsense!" Exclaimed Thomas. "I'd say you're just as good, if not better than Jean! He's getting on a bit – he likes to play the same songs over and over, whereas you always try to play something different! Maybe he'll let you play tonight, if he knows you've got friends with you?"

"Maybe later," replied Jimmy casually, but inside he was chuffed to bits that Thomas was throwing compliments at him in public. He put his hand on Thomas' knee under the table, and stroked it gently. Edith and Tom couldn't see, but Thomas suddenly felt very self-conscious. He was enjoying it too much to do anything about it, however. The alcohol in the cocktail was going to his head and making him feel a little fuzzy.

The four of them sat listening to the music and surveying their surroundings until the drinks ran out, but an attentive waiter was darting between the tables, making sure everyone's drinks were topped up.

After their third drink, Tom repeated his question to Edith. "Now, would you care to dance?"

"Just try and stop me!" Was the reply, and she got to her feet, stumbling a little at first, and the two of them made their way to the dancefloor. Edith wasn't used to dancing so freely, and Tom wasn't used to dancing at all, so they had Thomas and Jimmy in fits of laughter as they tried to emulate what the other couples were doing. The couples were mainly mixed, but Jimmy noticed a couple of women dancing together, and he was sure that one night when they had visited, he had seen two men dancing. They had been outstanding dancers too, he had remembered, and had wanted to dance with Thomas like these men were dancing with each other.

"Shall we have a go, too?" Asked Thomas, reading Jimmy's mind. "I don't think anyone would notice. And, even if I do say so myself, I'm a pretty good dancer. Just ask Daisy!"

"Wait – you danced with Daisy too? When was _that?_" Jimmy looked amazed that Thomas had ever been young enough to let his hair down in public.

"Oh, years ago. I feel bad about it now, but I only really did it to spite William, who was sweet on her. I felt it unfair that he could be so open about who he liked, yet I couldn't. It wasn't his fault though."

"That's funny, cos I only danced with Daisy to spite Alfred, for pretty much the same reason! How strange that we should both have the same story to tell. It's almost like someone, somewhere was trying to tell us something!"

Thomas looked confused. "Whatever you say, oh handsome one! Come on, let's show them how it's done. They're bloody awful."

He took Jimmy's hand and led him to the small dancefloor. Placing one hand on Jimmy's shoulder, and linking the other with Jimmy's own, he said "Lead me!" and the two of them span round in a circle until they were dizzy.

"Oh, you call that dancing?!" Taunted Tom, and grabbed Edith's waist, propelling her off the ground, much to her surprise. She played along well, and threw her hands up in time with Tom's lift, grabbing attention from the crowd.

"That's not dancing, that's lifting!" Shouted Jimmy, who grabbed Thomas and started a rendition of the Charleston that he knew Thomas liked. Thomas danced perfectly in time with the music, and Jimmy didn't like to admit it, but Thomas was definitely the better dancer of the two. By now, the rest of the crowd had stopped to watch Thomas and Jimmy dancing, and Jimmy was enjoying the attention now that he had a few drinks inside him.

Edith, not wanting to be outdone, begun a rendition of the Black Bottom, but unfortunately, being a little on the tipsy side herself, she just appeared to be making random movements which didn't go with the music at all. At one point she looked liked she was swimming upwards into the air, causing Tom to double over with laughter.

"What chance did I have, with Edith as my dance partner?!" He laughed as Edith continued, blissfully unaware of Tom's mirth.

"To be fair, she's a whole lot better than you!" Shouted Thomas over the music, and continued to dance with Jimmy. They were dancing a lot closer together now, doing a slightly less chaotic but just as energetic rendition of the Black Bottom in sympathy with Edith.

"Ah, we'll see about that!" Tom turned to Edith, shouting in her ear so that she could hear him. "Edith! Do you know the Lindy Hop?"

Whether Edith did indeed know the Lindy Hop or not was irrelevant. Overjoyed at having her dance partner back, she swung him round and started dancing liked she had never danced before. Tom, spurred on by Thomas, lifted her up again, and watched as Thomas lifted Jimmy up in a similar move. Tom grabbed Edith's waist and lifted her higher, prompting Thomas to lift Jimmy and spin him around, even though it was a challenge as they were both laughing so much.

Tom, desperate to outdo his rivals, whispered in Edith's ear, and her face looked slightly worried but she nodded. Taking a few steps backwards, she ran towards Tom and he lifted her up, but in her eagerness she managed to overbalance Tom and send him flying, with her collapsing on top like a rag doll.

Thomas ran over to them, worried that they were injured, but he was relieved to see that they were both laughing. He grabbed both their hands and pulled them up. "I think that's enough of that for one night, don't you?"

Silently, they agreed with him and the three of them sat down at their table. Jimmy had wondered off to talk to the pianist, and Thomas watched him talking animatedly about the new tunes he had been learning. Much to Thomas' delight, Jean stood up from the piano and offered Jimmy his seat.

Jimmy was bursting with happiness. He raised his hands dramatically and brought them down to the piano, allowing the melody to flow through the instrument and into the room. He started off slowly, to build the tension, and then increased the pace, enjoying seeing the various couples making up their own dance moves to his music.

Thomas screwed up his face, trying to work out where he had heard the music before. It sounded familiar, sort of, but he couldn't place it. He loved it, and couldn't wait to tell Jimmy just how much. He watched as Jimmy's face became a picture of joy upon doing something that he enjoyed so much, and he felt a tear prickling at the back of his eye.

Then he remembered. It was Jimmy's own composition, and Jimmy had written it for him a few months ago. He'd jokingly called it 'The Real Barrow', as it had started off slowly and a little melancholy, and gradually lightened up until the ending was jaunty and triumphant. Jimmy had compared this to how Thomas had once been a hard, closed-up, hurt soul who, upon moving to Paris, had become a free spirit. Well, as free as Thomas Barrow would admit to himself, anyway.

When the song was finished, Jean came back to talk to Jimmy whilst the rest of the band played, and Thomas ordered more drinks for the four of them.

"I honestly can't remember the last time I had such fun!" Said Edith, laughing and rubbing her knees. "Actually...I don't think I've ever had so much fun!"

"I know I haven't, at least not since Sybil..." Tom trailed off, a hint of sadness in his eyes, but he shook his head. "No. She wouldn't want me to be sad."

"That's right. She'd want you to be happy. And you are, aren't you? With Gwen, I mean?" Asked Thomas, studying the Irishman intently.

"Oh, she's grand, Thomas. Well, you knew her, of course! She's pretty, and funny, and very clever. Lord knows what she sees in me!"

"Oh, you know you're not so bad," said Thomas, suddenly reminded of the intimate moments he had shared with Tom in past; it felt like another life to him. "But she makes you happy, doesn't she?"

"Ay, she does. She's wonderful. I am missing her, but I'll see her in a couple of days, when we get back. We're leaving early tomorrow morning, but we're staying at Edith's Aunt's place in London tomorrow night."

"I bet you can't wait to see her. I know you've had a tough couple of years Tom, but I'm glad you're finally able to move on. Hopefully one day Lord G will be able to see that too, and you'll be able to tell him about Gwen." Thomas said with a sigh.

"I hope so too. I'll keep you posted, anyhow. Oh, here comes _The Entertainer _now!"

Jimmy came rushing towards them, almost tripping over a chair leg in his haste to tell Thomas what he had been talking to Jean about.

"You'll never guess what! Jean has just told me that he's thinking of retiring next month, and that they'll be needing a new pianist. And you'll never guess who they've asked to be their new pianist?" Jimmy's eyes shone, but Thomas couldn't resist pretending to guess.

"Oh, I dunno, Louis Armstrong?" Thomas guessed, winking at Tom.

"Who? No, I mean, he's asked _me_! He wants _me _to take over full-time on the piano! Here, every night, playing for a living! Isn't that wonderful?"

Thomas agreed that yes, it was in fact wonderful, and ordered everyone to raise their glass.

"To The Entertainer!" He said, glancing proudly at his lover, and everyone downed the rest of their drinks. As Thomas looked around the three of his companions, he knew that this was a special night. A night of friendship, drinking, dancing, and most of all, love. He had never felt so much love in his life as he had since living in Paris. It truly was a wonderful place to be.

* * *

**A/N: Told ya it was cheesy! It's amazing how much more difficult it is to write snarky!Thomas when he's so happy and in love. I hope this has been ok! :)**


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